A Buddy of Mine
by MonroeStyne
Summary: AU where Jason Todd and Roy Harper were military buddies. In a covert opp gone wrong Jason gets fatally wounded, months later Roy tells the story of Jason's last moments. One shot. Rated T for emotional trauma and minor gore.


**Hello all I have returned! This is something that just popped into my head and I thought it was kinda pretty so i wanted to share it with you. Hope you enjoy and please review!**

There was a buddy of mine in the war, went through some real shit. He lost his brother and sister in combat. He was taken prisoner and beaten only to be nearly blown to hell by his own men. By the time I got to him he was a goner. I knew it, he knew it. And he asked me one thing just one, 'can you help me outside?' Of course I did, what else would I do? I mean I knew this guy since we were real young ya know? I knew him better than I knew myself and the other way around. It hurt something awful to see him like that, face all beat up and swollen. His arms and legs were cut up and burned, they'd broken nearly all of his fingers. And don't even get me started on his chest and legs, it was- it- he was in a lot of pain.

It was hard to get him outside without hurting himself more ya know? But he was a stubborn son of a bitch. Yeah he was something else. Strongest man I've ever met. And this… this titan, looked at me dead in the eyes and said 'can you help me outside?' and I said 'yes' but my heart was breaking. I knew he was dying, he was bleeding out right there in front of me but I grabbed him by his shoulders and hoisted him up. I mean really what else could I do? Leave him there on the blood soaked dirt floor to die? No. I could never.

And as I… dragged… As I dragged him out of that hole in the ground, there was no fear in his eyes, they were- they were peaceful. He was at peace, complete and utter peace. I stopped us at the door, and I asked him if he was sure, if he wanted anything, if he wanted to be treated just in case someone could pull off a miracle. He shook his head, he said he was tired of fighting, he asked me if he should be scared… because he wasn't.

So I dragged him outside into the pouring rain. And I know that it sounds like it would be something out of a movie, a wounded soldier staring up into the gentle rain. No. That wasn't it. It was pouring rain, blowing sideways, freezing cold. But into the rain we went squinting against the pelting sleet. While we walked I thought I had lost him a few times, but he lit up a little once we reached the clearing. He pushed me away very weakly but I knew what he meant. So with arms outstretched I let him go.

I thought he was going to collapse right there on the spot, but he managed. I stepped away just to watch him you know? And he just stood there, face towards the sky. Knees buckling unsteadily beneath him, drenched in blood and sweat and tears and gasoline and soot and guilt and forgiveness and sorrow and peace and the freezing rain. Just looking up into the sky as the whole world failed him.

In that moment, right then in that moment I felt as small as I have ever felt in my whole life, and I can't- I can't even describe the feeling, it was just… it was just horrible. Having to stand there and watch as the rain washed the blood from his face, watching his shoulders shudder every time he tried to breathe. I swear I could hear his ribs grinding. But the hardest part was having to stand there, to just look on you know? All I wanted to do was run to him and hold him and make him laugh and patch him up and take him back home smiling to his family, but I couldn't… It wasn't my call.

So I just stood there and I let myself cry, and I watched him gaze up into the endless rain and just take it all in. People kept coming up to me, paramedics and friends and I'd have to tell them to leave him alone, to let him die. I can honestly say it was one of the more difficult things I've ever had to do. And all of this happened in the span of maybe… maybe 4 minutes, he um… he- he didn't last long.

It was the most surreal thing to be a witness to. Because it was horrific, the blood oozing form his mouth, the way he clutched his stomach, the pain he was in. Jesus… the pain. And the way I could see it all happening before it even happened. As I stood there I could see the moment where he would collapse and lay stuttering in the mud, and I would run to him and I would hug him close to me under some strange illusion that I might be able to hold him together, but I wasn't! I couldn't do anything! He was just gone just like that! And I had to watch his eyes turn grey, and I had to feel his heart stop. I could see it all coming, like a freight train in the fog.

But… but you know it was beautiful too. It's true, as awful as it was… it was beautiful. Being there with someone at the end of their extraordinary life, standing by as he embraces the earth in its imperfections, as he laughs into the rain. And the most beautiful part is having the last thing they do be to turn and smile at you. Do you know what that's like? It's kind of like if someone you love were to move to space and at their going away party they walked past everyone else, right up to you and gave you the last hug. It's so intensely bittersweet, right up to the end.

And I knew it was going to happen, I knew that soon the world was going to get a little bit darker. I knew that if he could spend his last moments in the bitterest of rain, smiling up at the absent sun in complete faith that it was still there despite the clouds, then I could smile too. So I just stood there, soaked to the bone in rain, trying to savor every second he was breathing.


End file.
